[Day 4] Decathlon: 1600m

[aya]

DECATHLON: 1600M MILE

Welcome to the Decathlon tournament of the second Panem Olympic Games! The track and field complex is located within the Olympic Arena, with stands for spectators traveling from Districts One, Two, Four, and the Capitol to watch the competitors. Television cameras are set up around as well, to broadcast the event to anyone staying home as well as to the other districts who aren't as lucky and competent as you all! Please be sure you stretch and warm up with your coaches before you're called to the starting block, and remember, make your district proud!

The execution of this event is simple. Feel free to roleplay your character on the starting blocks and running, and then paste the code [*dice=12000+27000] without the asterisks into your post and roll, as you would with a Hunger Games die. This will result in a five-digit number that will correspond to a time, which is read with a decimal point separating the first three and the last two digits (e.g. 27000 is read as 270.00 seconds) This will be converted to minutes.

The competitor with the lowest time wins this event. Times for this event will be continually updated on this thread; however, the overall decathlon standings will be updated on a separate thread.

After you have rolled, feel free to edit your post with your character's reaction to each throw if you so desire, but please keep it to one post rather than multiple.

There is NO POSTING ORDER; you may post your throws whenever you please. Keep in mind that this event must be wrapped up by the end of the Olympics Day.

Roster
1. Elya Johnwayne - d2
2. Circe Lyon - d2
3. June Serpentine - d1
4. Phyneas Pine - d2
5. Milo Birch - d2
6. Alexander Chastmen - d2
7. Amazonite Shore - d1
8. Emery Lane - d2
9. Alita Argent - d2
10. Ray Baitwell - d4


Event Standings
1. Amazonite Shore - 279.73 (4 minutes 39.73 seconds)
2. Milo Birch - 292. 22 (4 minutes 52.22 seconds)
3. Phyneas Pine - 333.54 (5 minutes 33.54 seconds)
4. Alexander Chastmen - 333.73 (5 minutes 34.00 seconds)
5. June Serpentine - 352.85 (5 minutes 52.85 seconds)
6. Circe Lyon - 355.87 (5 minutes 56.00 seconds)
7. Alita Argent - 359.10 (5 minutes 59.10 seconds)
8. Elya Johnwayne - 359.90 (5 minutes 59.90 seconds)
9. Ray Baitwell - 375.75 (6 minutes 16.00 seconds)


Overall Decathlon Standings - Day 3
1. Circe Lyon - 47
2. Amazonite Shore - 43
3. Elya Johnwayne - 39
4. June Serpentine - 36
5. Alexander Chastmen - 33
6. Alita Argent - 32
7. Emery Lane - 29
8. Phyneas Pine - 28
9. Ray Baitwell - 23
10. Milo Birch - 22



TL;DR
Dice: [*roll=12000+27000]
Deadline: 09/09 ~11:59pm EST

[gamemaker kelsier]

“I am not a woman.
I am an inferno.”

The pressure was on her to win this. Circe Lyon was only a few points ahead of her in the decathlon and Amazonite was not going to let those few measly points get in her way for the gold medal. Her start in the contest had been admittedly cringe worthy with her difficulties withe the high jump. However, things had been looking up since that first day, people were starting to whisper about her as she walked past.

Disgustingly enough, they were whispering things behind their hands about the Lyon bitch too, gossiping about the few altercations the top two competitors had had so far. It was well known that the two weren't friends. Now it was not only a matter of pride but a matter of kicking the other girl to the curb and using her as a stepladder.

Amazonite readied herself as they lined up for the mile run, taking her rightful position in second place, staring in annoyance at the back of Circe's head. She wouldn't be doing that for long, they'd be trading places in a moment.

As the starting gun went off, Amazonite leaped forwards, intent on proving it.

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[Loony]

For the first time in a long time it seemed possible to have success in this event designed to weed out the weak. I success with the discus, and did okay with the the hurdles, much better than I had done in the past. It was becoming more and more clear that these olympics are designed to cause as much stress as possible for both the officials and competitors.

As we moved to the mile, my spirits were high, feeling better than ever. I take my place at the starting line, firmly in my place in 8th. I set my feet and run when the gun echos through the air.

I run with everything in my power, I run like the people behind me are going to kill me. I run like my life depends on it, because it does.

Time: 333.54
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[arx!!]

Ray Baitwell

I've been running distances like this my entire life but for some reason, without the comfort of the sand between my toes or the waves crashing against the shore, I can't focus. The asphalt, the fact that it is an oval - everything about this place is foreign. Except that I am still in District 4. That remains a constant. As does every bit of my lost dignity the night I got so drunk I lost it.

The various Leon posters around the district helped to remind me of how everything I ever had and - yes, loved - is gone.

I failed to keep her safe.

I failed to keep myself and my name safe.

I've failed at most everything lately, including this ridiculous competition.

As if any of this mattered, as if this were anything close to winning the Hunger Games and becoming a Victor. Ha. Why even bother trying? But as soon as I am lined up with my opponents and the gun fires into the air, I am taking strides and striving to escape the failures that will forever chase me.

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“Never give a person a piece of your mind when all you really wanted to do

was give them a piece of your heart.”

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[Kire]

ღ J u n e ✧ S e r p e n t i n e ღ

Does, Says, Thinks

They expect me to drive myself in a circular motion down a stretch of track more times that I should have thought useful. I would refuse but they say that it is this suffering or the loss of my chance at victory. Foolish ideas, and foolish notions, but I am unable to state they belong solely to others. I had a hand in my own misfortune by signing myself into this death competition. Where once was overly competent and confident it seems my strength is designed for such other than this. From this moment onward I vow to abandon such folly as this in search of this more suitable to my time. For now, alas, I am stuck at the start of yet another show of stupidity. On your marks, get set, face the failures of others.

Pm1oOpIh12000+27000 Time: 352.85 (5 minutes 52.85 seconds)

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[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

CIRCE LYON

Breakfast had been tense. More so than usual. She was always one of the first to arrive and one of the first to leave to start her warmup. But this morning, she lingered. She didn't know if she wanted to lash Amazonite with her silver tongue, or to catch a glimpse of Elya. Neither showed before her stomach settled and her legs began to ache. She had so wanted to set them off kilter, to remind them that this was her decathlon to win, her broken heart that needed the most mending.

She'd brought her game face, which was in all likelihood less intimidating than her resting bitch face, but she couldn't even pretend to be passive. Not today. Not when Amazonite was chomping at her heels, licking up every crumb she put down. And for yet another day, Amazonite was listed before her in the roster. She'd have to talk to someone about that.

As Amazonite stepped over the finishline, their gazes collided. Just for a breath, a millisecond. But it was enough to slam Circe's heart against her rib cage, to remind her that she was here for something more than just running this race and grabbing that gold. She put her head down, steadied her legs... and heard the echo of the starting shot.

She was late from the very start, and no matter how much she stretched her hamstrings, she couldn't make it up. She finished near the bottom of her pack, utterly humiliated by Amazonite's time. With both hands she pushed the sweat from her face and fixed the wayward strands from her ponytail. She turned, crossing right in front of her. "What an impressive time, Shore. You run like a gazelle. What are you so afraid of?"

template by chelsey

x6pmXP8912000+27000

355.87 lawd that is bad

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[Arrows]

Alexander Chastmen
All I can see is the red of boiling blood

---

    Xander's hands were still twitching in rage at his preformance over at the Shot Put. His pathetic 19.61m put was ridiculous in comparison to his opponent's. Today he was suppose to prove himself and to start a new line of champions, but instead he was doing the opposite. He heard the crowd laugh at his preformance, he was proving them all right about his size and age! This was something he had sworn he would never allow but now he was! His parents would surely be looking down on him right now. He had to change his luck with this next event or else he was cursed to die a failure. He had just begun climbing back up the rankings and now he was dangling on the edge of falling again. He had to win this event, there was no other option anymore. So as the time before the event started ticked away he pondered on such a way to prevail victorious, then it just clicked. Amazonite bloody Shore, they had been winning over and over again, if Xander could beat him he could win.

    When the bell rang to line up on the starting blocks Xander's eyes locked on Amazonite. He would out run that piece of good for nothing Shore if it was the last thing he did. Xander was sick of losing, sick of being made to look like a little kid in way too over his head. When the gun rang Xander's heart was thundering so loud taking off running was too easy. His eyes stayed locked on Amazonite who was running incredibly fast, but he would not escape this time. As they came around the final bend Xander's anger hit its maximum and his feet began hitting the ground even faster. His heart screamed in his ears but he just kept sprinting. Beat him already, replayed over and over in his head until he raced over the finish line coming to a slow stop. With his rage still ignited to a massive inferno he dared look up at the final run times.

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[✨ zozo.]

alita argent

She thinks she's dreaming again. There's screaming and shouting and the world is a blur and she feels a little sick. (It's getting harder to tell when she's asleep and when she's awake. She thinks she's living in the in-between where she's never asleep nor awake - just floating along in her subconscious mind.) Alita Argent has run so many damn miles in her life she's almost getting sick of it. But in all of those miles she has run away from something, not towards it. Being the chased and not the chaser. In front of her is victory, points, recognition. Behind her regret, shadows, fear. She crosses her fingers and prays that today she'll chase a dream and not run from it instead.

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[Meghan]

MILO BIRCH

I am not pleased. I am not happy at all and if things get any worse I may as well stab a bitch. The Olympics have been an absolute disaster. Even Logan earned himself a medal. Here I am, stuck in last place for the first time in my entire life. I have to do well at this event. I just have to. Otherwise I have nothing left. I might as well just hand myself to my enemies in the games and beg them to kill me. I'm worthless, worthless, worthless.

Anger seers the inside of my heart with blackened ash. As soon as the pistol goes off I sprint as hard as I can. If I can't win the decathlon, I can at least win this race.

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[aya]

Elya Johnwayne

and all that's left is a blind reflection
but you know what's coming and you regret it

Elya Johnwayne could not be less enthused about the day's events. Shot put was boring, and the mile was worse. She had no problem with the running — provided her leg wasn't acting up — but going around in circles for five minutes was exhaustingly dull, especially when her actual focus was required if she wanted to do well. What a fucking thrill. The 400m and the 100m were at least short, and run as a sprint so as to be less tedious, but the mile, especially on a track? Better run it quickly to get it over with that much faster.


GPjZmNue12000+27000
[time]

{i've "interested" plenty in my time}

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